#I don’t know why but every day I love them more and more and this has already lasted for more than a year...

[fireinmoonshot]

patience, baby | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: After escaping the Red Room, Bucky Barnes became a father figure to you. He'd never approve of you dating Joaquín Torres... but you have to come clean to him about it eventually. Warnings: Mentions of the Red Room, brainwashing and killing people. Reader was brainwashed and has killed before. Word Count: 1.7k A/N: Another request from a lovely anon 💗 This was fun to write. I've missed writing Bucky. I will definitely be writing for him again once Thunderbolts comes out and my Bucky Barnes obsession is reborn... Joaquín is extra cheeky in this one as well. I adore him. This is perfectly timed to be in celebration of him being in Avengers: Doomsday!

When Bucky had first introduced you to Joaquin Torres, he hadn’t thought much of it. The kid was the new Falcon, but he was also annoying as hell. It was only because of Sam that he’d bothered to introduce the two of you in the end.

Sam had insisted on it, saying that it would be good for both you and Joaquin to get to know one another. You were similar ages and could learn from each other. “Joaquin could do with some tips from someone like her,” Sam had said, and Bucky had relented eventually. He’d assumed that, since he was like a father figure to you, that Joaquin might be like a brother to you. You never really knew your biological family, so he convinced himself that this might be good for you.

You’d been through a lot in your life, being raised in the Red Room. Once you’d gotten out, Bucky had been there to help you through it. He understood what it was like to be brainwashed, to do things and not realise you were doing them. He’d helped you the best way he knew how. 

It was exactly why he was so protective of you. The second he realised he was wrong about all that, though, he regretted ever introducing you. 

He’d seen you staring across the room at Joaquin while he was training with Sam, trying to learn a barrel kick on solid ground before trying it in the air. After the accident, Joaquin had to take time off to recover, so he’d been hitting the gym pretty regularly to get his strength back now that he was healed.

The look on your face told Bucky everything he needed to know. 

“Stop that,” Bucky had said, placing his hands on your shoulders and spinning you to face him so that you would stop watching Joaquin. “None of that, okay?”

You raised your eyebrows and shook off his grip. “None of what, Bucky?” You said, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about – the fact that you’d been caught staring at Joaquin. And who could blame you? The man was an incredible fighter and it wasn’t your fault that he’d worn a sleeveless shirt to training.

He pointed a finger over towards Sam and Joaquin. “None of that. He’s a kid, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically he is also an Avenger…”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Don’t even start.”

Luckily, you had dropped it after that – much to Bucky’s glee (if he even had such an emotion, you thought). You’d gone back to training with Bucky and tried your best not to let your eyes wander across the gym to where Joaquin was training.

Behind his back, though… well, what Bucky didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? 

Whenever Bucky wasn’t watching, you and Joaquin would spend time together. The more Bucky trusted you, the more lenient he was with you spending your time outside the Avengers HQ – as if you weren’t a grown adult. If he’d known you were spending that time with Joaquin, you knew he wouldn’t be so calm about it. 

It didn’t take you very long to fall for Joaquin, or for him to fall for you. Even though he knew your past, he knew the rough details about who you were and what you’d done, he didn’t seem to care. All he wanted to do was to sweep you off your feet every single day. Sometimes, quite literally.

For the first time in your life, you felt human. 

It was that fact that made you realise that you needed to tell Bucky. You couldn’t keep a secret like this from him any longer. He’d want you to be happy, you knew that. In time, he’d warm up to Joaquin, you hoped. 

Joaquin meets you in the corridor outside the gym, a cheeky grin on his face as usual. He glances around to make sure no one is watching before he sweeps you into his arms, pulling you to his chest and brushing his lips over yours.

“Be careful, baby,” you murmur against his lips. “This is not the way I want Bucky to find out about us.” 

He pulls away reluctantly, a smile on his face yet again. “Sorry, I just can barely keep my hands off of you. I haven’t seen you in three days since I’ve been away with Sam and I’ve missed the feeling of you in my arms.”

His words set butterflies off in your stomach and you can’t stop yourself from leaning in to peck his lips. His hold tightens on you as you do and he attempts to deepen the kiss into something more but you pull away, leaving him pouting.

“Patience, baby,” you hum. “You’ll get plenty of kisses later when we aren’t right outside the room where Sam and Bucky are, okay? Can you be patient for me?”

Joaquin nods his head without hesitation. It’s taking all his self control not to pull you into the nearest storage closet and show you how unwilling he is to be patient right now. 

You place your hands on his chest and push him away from you gently. “Let’s go and see how this is going to play out…”

He reaches down and takes your hand. Your head snaps towards him. Does he seriously think holding your hand is a good way to break the news to Bucky?

“It’s a compromise,” Joaquin explains. “You won’t let me push you against this wall and kiss you properly, so I’m holding your hand when we walk in there. I’m not accepting any argument you might be thinking up in that gorgeous head of yours.” 

Then he starts leading you into the gym, pulling you along behind him. You laugh to yourself and hurry to catch up with him so that you can walk side by side. 

Bucky and Sam are standing across the gym near the lockers, talking amongst each other. Bucky’s back is to you, meaning he thankfully can’t see the way you and Joaquin are walking towards him, hands entwined.

“So, Bucky,” you start as you reach the two of them.

He spins around, his eyes instantly falling on your hands. He stares at them for a second before his eyes meet yours. “What is this?” He asks, glancing between you and Joaquin.

“Joaquin and I are together,” you state, figuring it’s better to just rip off the bandaid and get everything out in the open straight away. That way, there’s no chance of Bucky butting in and trying to stop you from what you’re about to say.

Sam, standing just to the right of Bucky, stifles a laugh. He’d seen this coming from a mile away, but somehow Bucky hadn’t. He’s almost tempted to walk away and let Bucky handle this alone, but for the sake of Joaquin, he stays.

“You’re what?” Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “I thought I said–”

“I know what you said,” you interrupt. “I’m an Avenger and he’s just a kid. But he’s an Avenger, too. And we’ve been spending time together behind your back – that was my choice, not his – and we really like each other.”

You feel a little silly having to explain all this to Bucky. Is this what it would’ve been like if you’d lived a normal life and had to introduce your boyfriend to your dad as a teenager?

Bucky looks between you and Joaquin, a little lost for words. You’re dating someone. For the first time since Bucky has known you, you’re not entirely his responsibility. You’ve been like a daughter to him for years now… and Joaquin is apparently not like a brother to you like he’d expected.

“I don’t think-”

He’s cut off again by you interrupting him, but he can’t bring himself to be annoyed by it. You’ve learnt this from him. Not only some of your fighting techniques once you’d escaped the Red Room, but apparently some of his personality traits too.

“I’ve never been able to have a personal life, Bucky,” you state. “I’ve spent most of my life killing people without even knowing what I was doing. I’ve spent a lot of my life being brainwashed into someone else. Can’t you just let me have this?”

Your voice is soft and it’s just enough to break through Bucky’s walls. 

“Just… just go and start stretching for training,” he says gruffly. “And don’t hold hands when you’re around me. I don’t wanna see any physical contact, you hear me?”

A smile breaks out on your face and you look up at Joaquin, who is sporting a similar look on his own face. “I’ll take care of her, Bucky, I swear,” he replies.

Bucky waves his hand, dismissing you both and watching as you walk over to the sparring mats on the other side of the room to start stretching. He’s not mad, not really. Just concerned. But everything you said was right – you deserve to be able to have this, this piece of normality, and he can’t find it in himself to not let you, even if it terrifies him. 

“I don’t want him to hurt her, Sam,” Bucky murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beside him, Sam laughs. “Buck, Joaquin wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She’s been through enough,” Bucky continues as if he didn’t even hear Sam’s words. “The Red Room, everything that she went through there, learning to get past it all…”

Sam claps a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Joaquin isn’t going to hurt her. Couldn’t you tell that just from the way he looks at her? The kid is head over heels. He practically worships the ground she walks on, man. She’s in good hands. Loosen up a little. It wouldn’t hurt you.”

He shoots Sam a look and steps aside, forcing Sam’s hand to drop from his shoulder. He can only hope that Sam is right about that, that you’re in good hands with Joaquin and that he’ll never hurt you.

“Tell him to watch his back if he does,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he starts to walk towards you where you’re stretching. “Torres, get to your own mat! It does not take two people to stretch out a calf muscle!"

––––

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@sidkneeeee @dead-inside-but-happy @lay-lay-5 @marchingicenotes7 @phucboy @davinashifts333 @lomlbuckybarnes @laurenjbb @chansburgah @blackwidownat2814 @mischiefmanaged71 @madzlovez @marvelwitchergilmore @brittnicki @rheas-ripley @bcystar @victorsbathroomstall @giona45-5

[bullet-prooflove]

The Betting Pool: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby has a shitty day, he just wants to be whereever you are and usually that's the pool.

For a while your nickname in the Pitt is RMC – Robby’s midlife crisis.

Almost 15 years younger and a lifeguard to boot…

Robby’s from the Baywatch era, he knows how it looks. They think you spend all day running around in a red swimsuit, swishing your hair back over your shoulder and giving mouth to mouth. That couldn’t be more further from the truth.

They don’t understand that every spare cent you have goes to your mother’s care, that you had to pivot at the height of a highly lucrative career and become something less than what you were always meant to be. They don’t see how hard you work, studying so you can be something more than the lot you were given.

“I need you to knock that shit off.” He tells his attendings during a staff meeting. “You have no idea how incredibly fucking demeaning it is.”

They do, they just don’t care because gossiping about him, it creates a lightness in The Pitt, a distraction from all the horrific shit they see. There’s no stopping it he realises when he walks into the security office and sees the betting pool stuck to the white board with brightly coloured post-its.

There’s all sorts of interesting thoughts.

Robby becomes the subject of a true crime podcast

Steal’s Robby’s car and cleans out his bank accounts.

Robby discovers he’s the other man.

There’s a lot of bets riding on that one. Looking at this board only reenforces the fact that people are going to think what they want to think and it’s on him to prove them wrong.

He picks up a pink post it and one of the black sharpies before scribbling his own bet.

$5000 dollars, he writes before he sticks it to the board. Happily married within the next three years.

Love Robby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[blingblong55]

New bodies- John Price// Alex Keller NSFW

Based on a request: Ok hear me out… this girl has been absolutely fighting for prices attention for years and Price being stubborn gives it to her in fleeting moments. He thinks she’s just gonna wait forever for this old man to finally settle down. He’s always making her think she has a chance, only for price to always choose some random chick from the bar. The rest of 141 convinced her to just give up and she slowly does because the rejection makes her stomach sick. Well unfortunately for price Alex Keller is absolutely smitten with her. And Alex noticed that price is clearly not going to fuck this poor girl like she deserves. So being the absolute gentleman Alex is he makes a makeshift date out of some MREs and a sunset. They don’t even realize price is watching them as things get heated. I mean Alex is making a mess of this poor thing, hickeys all over her neck, soaked from her squirting. Alex is going to absolutely destroy her and price is there is the shadows, hard as a rock, barely quiet as he strokes himself. ---- F!Reader, MDNI, smut, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, unestablished!relationship, voyeurism, unrequited!love ----

There is no I love you. There are just fleeting moments, moments where all you can feel is butterflies when he smiles at you. It's dumb, it's quite stupid but it's him. Were you a fool to believe that one day you'd be more than a body to him? Maybe you were but love makes us all blind and surely your silent prayers would be answered and he'd come knocking on your door and say, "You were right, I do love you." 

He would never say those words. 

There were days he'd tell you sweet nothings. Hope...fucking false hope. Was there a day you just wanted to wake up to him? Yes. Did he tell you specifically he wanted you? No. But there was hope. Hope in the way he looked into your eyes and smiled. Laughed at your silly jokes. Listened intently to your words, fucking active listeners. And for a moment then, you saw a future. 

A kitchen with a window so you could look out and watch him chase around the dog. Giggles surrounding the home. Dinners where he could hold your hand under the table and then bring it to his lips.

What a vision for the idiots who believe. 

You turn around, watching as he walks into the pub. Your eyes meet and while your heart races, his doesn't. There's no real feeling for him there. But for you there is. Your heart races and the world stops as you look at him. Your eyes are soft and full of hope, full of everything in this world but his love. Why must you be such a fool?

Damn Elvis song. 

Slowly as Price makes sure you know there is no hope for you and him. He brings in random women or rather meets random women at the pub. He makes sure you see it. Make sure you know he won't love you. You won't be the one to be held in his big arms as he watches the game with the lads. No Sunday dinners, no family dog and no giggles as he runs around with the kids. 

There's no him and you. 

Four months ago, Alex was brought in for a special mission. Well, missions take time, training and making of plans. In his downtime, he took his precious time getting to know you. To know every crevice and all those things that make you tick. 

Well, soon enough you're in his arms. On his bed and in between kisses, you shiver as Alex's lips trail fiery kisses along the column of your neck, his stubble deliciously rough against my sensitive skin. Strong hands roam your curves, mapping out every dip and swell, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You can feel the heat of his gaze, intense and hungry, devouring you like a starving man presented with a feast.

"Fuck, you're breathtaking," Alex growls, voice dripping with lust. His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging lightly as he crashes his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You moan into it, melting under his touch, surrendering yourself completely to the inferno he's ignited within you.

Alex breaks the kiss, only to blaze a scorching path down to your neck, licking and nipping at the tender flesh. He sucks hard, marking you, claiming you, as his hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his hard length pressing insistently against your core, separated only by the flimsy fabric of your panties.

"So fucking perfect," he rasps, voice strained with desire. His fingers dance along the waistband of your panties, teasingly dipping beneath the lace. "Fuck, baby, you're dripping already," Alex groans, fingers slipping beneath the drenched lace, stroking your slick folds. "I can feel how much you want this, how badly you need my cock."

His thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub, as two long digits plunge deep into your core. You cry out, back arching off the ground, hips bucking to meet his hand. Alex works you mercilessly, fucking you with his fingers, curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside you.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises darkly, voices rough with lust. "Wreck this pretty little pussy on my dick until you're fucking ruined for anyone else. No one will ever make you feel as good as I can."

He seals his filthy words with a brutal kiss, swallowing your moans, as he tears your panties off, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. The cool air kisses your heated skin, your dripping slit on a lewd display, as Alex looms over you, eyes wild with primal desire.

"So fucking gorgeous," he rasps, free hand palming his rigid cock through his pants, giving it a firm squeeze. Alex settles himselfq between your thighs, the thick line of his erection pressing hot and heavy against your weeping core. He grinds against you, coating his length on your slick arousal, the rough denim of his pants deliciously abrasive against your sensitive folds. You whimper and writhe beneath him, desperate for more, craving the feel of his bare skin against yours.

"Patience, baby," Alex chuckles darkly, amused by your desperation, "I will give you exactly what you need. Gonna fuck this greedy little cunt so hard, you'll be feeling me for days."

He sits back on his haunches, hands gripping your hips as he holds you still, preventing you from chasing his touch. With a wicked grin, he reaches for his belt, unbuckling it slowly, drawing out the anticipation. The clink of metal against metal fills the air, followed by the whispered rasp of his zipper as he lowers it, inch by torturous inch.

Finally, blessedly, his cock springs free, long and thick and perfect, the swollen head already glistening with beads of moisture. You lick your lips, mouth watering at the sight, hungry to taste him. With a grunt, Alex sheathes himself inside you, hitting his thick length in one powerful thrust. You scream, back bowing off the ground, your nails raking down his muscular back as he stretches you wide around his girth. He's so big and he's in so deep, you can feel him in your throat, your lungs. 

"Fuck, so goddamn tight," Alex snarls, hips rolling in a slow grind, stirring his cock inside your fluttering walls. He pulls nearly out, before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing obscenely in the still night air.

You're lost in sensation, drowning in the pleasure radiating from where we're joined, your body clenching greedily around him, trying to hold him deep. Alex leans down, capturing your mouth in a filthy kiss, tongue delving deep, swallowing your screams of rapture. His stubble scrapes your jaw as he devours you, drinking down your ecstasy, revelling in the sounds of your pleasure.

"Take it, you perfect little slut," Alex growls against your lips, one hand fisting in your hair. Alex pistons his hips, fucking into you with deep, powerful strokes, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mingling with your wanton cries and Alex's guttural grunts of exertion. Your trembling, writhing beneath him, your body shaking apart from the force of his fucking.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me," Alex rasps, voice strained with pleasure, "Gonna make me fucking bust so hard in this tight little cunt." His words send a bolt of electricity through you, your core clenching hard around his pistoning length.

Unbeknownst to you both, a dark silhouette shifts in the shadows, John Price standing motionless, eyes glued to the debauched scene before him. The wet slap of flesh against flesh and our coupled moans reach his ears, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, an obvious tent forming in the fabric.

Price reaches down, palming himself through his pants, biting back a groan as his hand closes around his rigid flesh. He watches Alex pound into the woman with increasingly rough, animalistic thrusts, grunting and cursing. Price unzips his pants with fumbling hands, freeing his aching cock. He wraps a calloused hand around the throbbing shaft, giving it a firm squeeze, biting his lip to stifle a groan. His thumb swipes over the swollen crown, smearing the bead of moisture that's leaked from the tip.

He strokes himself in time with Alex's brutal thrusts, tight fist-pumping along his thick length, revelling in the filthy scene. Price's heavy sac draws up, balls churning with pent-up release, as he watches Alex rail you into oblivion, your body shaking like a rag doll.

Alex snarls a litany of curses, hips slamming forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his orgasm crashes over him. "Fuck!" he roars, voice echoing through the night, as he explodes deep inside you, flooding your spasming cunt with jet after jet of hot seed.

You scream, back arching like a bow, as your peak slams into you, vision whitening at the edges. You milk Alex for every last drop, greedy cunt rippling and squeezing, trying to wring out his release.

Maybe Price could use you some time... maybe this was something he did want with you.

A/N: this was written between my best friend and I, so if you notice a change in words, that’s why.

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @Krinoid24 @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @viomast @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @Llelannie @Macnches2 @talooolaaloolla @honestlyhiswife @konigssultwithghost @lovelyvqer @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @noodlezz-bedo @azkza @mariededenie

[slutoru1207]

Viltrumite!Mark Grayson x Reader HC — Taken to Viltrum

Fiercely Possessive, Utterly Devoted, and Unwilling to Let You Go

You’re his and he won’t let you go. Mark didn’t ask you if you wanted to come to Viltrum. He decided. He’s stronger, faster, and he knows what’s best for you—even if you don’t understand it yet. Earth is weak. Humanity is fragile. But you? You’re his, and he refuses to leave you behind.

He carries you like you’re the most precious thing in existence. Even with his strength, even in the brutal landscape of Viltrum, Mark holds you carefully. His touch is firm but never rough with you. You’re the one thing in this universe that he refuses to harm, the one person who matters. Even when surrounded by warriors, his hands never stray far from you—on your waist, gripping your wrist, a protective arm slung around you.

The other Viltrumites don’t understand his obsession. Love isn’t a concept Viltrumites prioritize. Mates are chosen for strength, for genetics, for survival. But Mark? He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the universe. His loyalty isn’t to Viltrum—it’s to you. And that confuses the others.

If anyone dares question your place beside him, they don’t question it twice. Another Viltrumite—strong, calculating—makes a comment about how Mark is “wasting his potential” being so focused on you. Mark doesn’t even hesitate. He moves so fast you barely see it happen—one second the other warrior is speaking, the next they’re on the ground, groaning, blood dripping from their mouth. Mark wipes his hands, unfazed. “Anyone else?” Silence.

You’re the only soft thing in his world. Viltrum is harsh—constant training, war, strategy. Mark has become harder, colder. But with you? That fades. He touches you with reverence, whispers your name like a prayer when you’re alone. You see the side of him that no one else does—the part of him that wants to be gentle, that wants to love, even in a place that doesn’t value it.

He’ll never let you feel unsafe. You don’t belong here, not really. You’re not like the others. But Mark makes sure you never feel like an outsider. If someone so much as looks at you wrong, his fingers tighten around yours, and his grip alone is enough of a warning: They won’t hurt you. They wouldn’t dare.

He still calls you by your name like you’re his home. No matter how far from Earth you are, no matter how much blood is on his hands, the way Mark says your name is still full of warmth. You are his home. Not Viltrum, not the empire—you.

He won’t force you to love Viltrum, but he will make sure you love him. He knows this world is brutal. He knows you might hate it, might resent him for bringing you here. But one thing is non-negotiable: You will love him. He refuses to let you drift away, refuses to let you think for one second that you’re alone. You are his, and he’ll remind you of that every time he kisses you, every time he pulls you close, every time he whispers against your ear, “I told you—I’m never letting you go.”

He still brings you things from Earth. No matter how far from home you are, Mark refuses to let you forget where you came from. Every time he visits Earth—whether for a mission or something more personal—he brings you back something. A book. Your favorite snack. A hoodie that still smells like Earth. If he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s yours.

He brings you roses, even though Viltrumites don’t get it. One day, he comes back from a mission with a handful of slightly-crushed roses. He holds them out like it’s normal, like it isn’t strange to see a hardened Viltrumite warrior carrying delicate flowers. “I know you used to like these,” he mumbles, averting his gaze like he’s embarrassed. The other Viltrumites don’t understand why he’d waste time on something so trivial—but Mark doesn’t care.

He still tries to cook for you—even if he’s terrible at it. Viltrumites don’t need to cook. They eat for survival, not for pleasure. But he remembers that food mattered to you on Earth, so one night, he actually tries. The result? A disaster. He burns something, something else is questionable, and when you take a bite, he’s watching you way too closely. “...Is it bad?” he asks, jaw tight. You smile, trying not to gag. “It’s… thoughtful.”

He lets you paint his nails (once). It starts as a joke. You mention how human couples do silly things together, and somehow, that turns into him letting you paint his nails—black, obviously. He grumbles the whole time but doesn’t stop you. Later, when another Viltrumite points it out, Mark just stares at them until they drop it. (You catch him redoing it himself weeks later.)

He watches Earth movies with you, even if he doesn’t get them. You introduce him to Modern Family and The Notebook—and he’s so confused. “Why are they wasting time talking instead of just fixing things?” But even though he complains, he still sits through them because you likethem. And sometimes, when he thinks you’re not looking, he actually pays attention.

He still calls you pet names in English. Viltrumites don’t really do pet names. They barely do affection. But Mark? He still calls you babe, sweetheart, baby—and when he says it, it sounds so out of place in the cold, brutal world of Viltrum. Like a little piece of Earth that only exists between you two.

He carves out a space on Viltrum just for you. Viltrum is rough—cold architecture, sterile environments. But your living space? It’s different. Mark makes sure of it. He brings soft blankets, Earth-made furniture, anything that makes it feel more like home. He even lets you fill it with unnecessary things (sentimental things) because he knows you need it.

He doesn’t care what Viltrum thinks—he’ll love you how he wants. They don’t understand him. They don’t understand why he does these things. But Mark doesn’t care. If bringing you roses, watching dumb Earth movies, or holding you too gently makes him weak, then fine. He’ll be weak for you. Because you’re his, and he’ll show you love exactly how you deserve it.

[heesimp]

girl i need another heehoon fic SO BAD!! literally can’t read anything else, i keep coming back omfg. i don’t even know if i like the ship or if i want y/n included but i just know that you’re so good at writing and i must read another part of the heehoon fic😭🙏🙏

jokes aside, i would really love if you could listen to my request and add another part but if you don’t want to it’s completely ok, OF COURSE.

love your works babe, have a great day!💖

I’ve been in the mood to write mxm lately…maybe jayke next?

if you want the video insp then follow my twitter

It’s entirely too hot in Heeseung’s bedroom.

Sunghoon breathes heavily through his nose when he feels his friend’s body above his own, palms planted on either side of his shoulders as he drags his lubed cock against his ass. Heeseung’s big cock fits perfectly between Sunghoon’s ass cheeks that it makes both of them wonder why they hadn’t thought to do this sooner.

Underneath him, Sunghoon’s cock pressed painfully hard between him and the mattress below. No amount of humping could ever release that kind of tension, especially with Heeseung trapping Sunghoon’s body beneath him. The older boy takes his sweet time rubbing up against him and bites his bottom lip as he smirks to himself with his eyes closed in deep, horny pleasure.

Every time Heeseung’s tip brushes Sunghoon’s asshole, he can’t help but let out a quiet whine against the soft mattress beneath him. Heeseung’s hips rut over and over again, wet tip leaking with precum as the lube creates this sticky noise that Sunghoon feels. His ass is so warm from the ongoing friction, but he doesn’t care.

“This feels almost as good as humping our balls together,” Heeseung says once he’s brought his mouth to Sunghoon’s ear. “Remember that? You got on top of me and we rubbed our cocks together until we both came. God, your balls were so fucking big and full of semen. I knew you’d cum hard.”

Sunghoon moans as Heeseung’s warm breath touch the side of his face. He puckers his lips and Heeseung wastes no time pushing himself forward to kiss the younger boy while sliding against his ass harder. His tip catches Sunghoon’s asshole and Heeseung swallows his short moan. He pulls back and adjusts his hips until the head of his cock prods against Sunghoon’s ass.

“You want me here?” Sunghoon pathetically nods. Heeseung puts his hands on Sunghoon’s body and uses him as leverage as he pulls his hips back as if he were going to fuck his friend, but only teases the tip against the wrinkles hole over and over again. Sunghoon whines while Heeseung audibly laughs. “So impatient for my cock. Do you feel how big I am? My dick’s gonna ruin your little fucking hole.”

Heeseung humps Sunghoon faster the more he talks. “You’re gonna make me cum, Hoon. Holy fucking shit, you’re so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon clenched his ass and spreads his legs wider at Heeseung’s appraisal. His balls clench and he readjusts his cock so that it lies between his legs with his tip pointing away to relieve some of the pressure.

“Fuuuuck. No condom, too? What, you only save that shit for girls?” Sunghoon turns his face to look at Heeseung.

“I fuck girls raw.”

Heeseung clenches his ass and thrust harder. “That’s what I like to hear. Pump these pussies full of your cum. They should be thankful.”

“Fuck,” Sunghoon groans.

“I’m close,” Heeseung says with a heavy pant. “You ready? You want my cum?”

“Give it to me. Fucking give it to me.”

Sunghoon does not expect Heeseung to shove all of his cock into his asshole, but the surprise is so welcomed that Sunghoon immediately cums and stains Heeseung’s bedsheets with his mouth wide open in a loud, incredible scream. Meanwhile, Heeseung pushes Sunghoon against the mattress as his cock pumps his load while he throbs, and Sunghoon can only lie there and feel the way Heeseung’s thick ropes make a mess of him.

“Tight.” Heeseung moans with his eyes screwed shut and mouth open. “Your ass is fucking tight. Tighter than the wettest pussy I’ve ever had. Shit shit shit. Sounds so good when you cum, too. Might ruin pussy for me.”

Heeseung is still hard by the time he’s finished cumming and slangs his hips to thrust in and out of Sunghoon again, who moans so deeply that Heeseung nearly feels it in his chest. He chuckles once he starts feeling how wet Sunghoon’s hole got over that last escapade and fucks it back. The wet and sticky sounds forms perfect harmony with Sunghoon’s little moans when Heeseung bends down. Still drilling his cock in and out of Sunghoon’s ass, Heeseung whispers against his ear.

“Let’s watch some porn together next time, hm? Maybe I can fuck your girls while you watch or make them watch as I fuck you. Need to see how perverted you can get.”

[amoressb]

───── TOO LATE 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ you thought you and him were meant to be, but he chose someone else…until he realized his mistake too late ｡｡ bsf!riki x reader .

ANGST? TO FLUFF & wc. 1300 + / kissing, skinship ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

make sure to read part 1 !!

days pass, then weeks. you avoid him, not out of bitterness, but out of self preservation. because being near him, seeing him with sohee, feels like ripping open a wound you’ve barely managed to stitch shut.

and riki?

at first, he let you slip away without a fight. but lately, he’s been reaching out more. texts you don’t answer. calls you let ring. moments where he hovers near you in the hallways, eyes pleading for something you’re too exhausted to give.

but he never says it. never outright asks for you back. never tells you he’s sorry. so, you keep your distance.

until one evening, you’re walking home in silence except for the sound of your own footsteps and the wind is sharp against your cheeks. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself but nothing compares to the hollow ache in your chest. that is until you hear hurried footsteps behind you. a voice calling your name.

“wait,” he calls, breathless. “please, just—just wait.”

you close your eyes. you know that voice. but you keep walking.

“please,” he breathes, and this time, there’s something different in his tone. desperation. regret. and against your better judgment, you slow down.

he jogs to catch up, slightly breathless, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. “can we talk?” he asks, his voice softer now.

you stare ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. “what’s there to talk about, riki?” he swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “us.”

that word makes your breath hitch.

“there is no us,” you whisper. “not anymore.”

rikis expression twists, his brows furrowing as if the thought alone is unbearable. “that’s not true,” he argues, voice shaking.

you let out a humorless laugh. “really? because it sure felt true when you let me go without a second thought.”

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, “i didn’t mean to—”

you whip your head toward him, your emotions finally spilling over. “but you did, riki! you did.” your voice wavers, but you push through. “you were my best friend and then one day, you just… stopped looking for me. like i never mattered to you.”

riki flinches, guilt flickering across his face. he looks down, his hands clenching into fists before he releases them with a shaky breath. “i didn’t stop looking for you.” his voice is hoarse, “i just—i didn’t realize i was losing you.”

you shake your head, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “that’s the worst part, riki. you never knew. you never even noticed me slipping away.”

the silence between you is deafening.

his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. “i was an idiot,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was just missing my best friend, but—” he swallows hard, his hands clenching at his sides. “it wasn’t just that. it was never just that.”

riki steps closer, his voice thick with emotion. “i looked for you first in every room. i always wanted to be near you. every sign, every moment, every ittle thing you thought you imagined? it was real.” his eyes are pleading now, dark and full of something you don’t want to name. “i was just too stupid to realize it.”

your heart clenches painfully, but you force yourself to stay firm. “then why did you choose her?”

riki squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “because i thought what i felt for you was normal. that it was just how best friends are supposed to feel about each other.” he looks at you then, really looks at you, and there’s something so vulnerable in his expression that it makes your chest ache. “i didn’t know how much i loved you until you were gone. i was scared.”

you freeze. “scared?”

his gaze meets yours again, raw and filled with something you’ve never seen before. “scared of ruining what we had. scared that if i admitted how i felt, you wouldn’t feel the same way.” his voice breaks slightly. “so i convinced myself that what i felt for you was normal. that best friends are supposed to look at each other the way i looked at you.”

“she was…easy.” his voice is laced with regret. “i liked her, but i didn’t love her. i think i was trying to distract myself from the fact that i already loved someone else.”

the words hit you like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs.

loved.

not liked. not crushed on.

loved.

riki exhales shakily, his fingers brushing against yours, hesitant—like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. “i don’t want to lose you,” he confesses, his voice trembling.

you squeeze your eyes shut. “you already did.”

“no,” he whispers. “i didn’t. because you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t still love me, too.” your heart lurches.

riki has never been the type to be this direct, this raw. but here he is baring everything, no longer hiding behind jokes or obliviousness.

you stare at his hand, barely touching yours. you could still walk away. could still pretend none of this ever happened.

but then you remember all the times he reached for you without thinking. the way he always made sure you were warm, even if it meant freezing himself. the way he looked at you before he even realized what it meant. the way his hands shake slightly. the way his eyes beg for another chance.

the riki in front of you is not the same riki who let you go without a fight, but…

you swallow hard. “you hurt me, riki.” his expression shatters, “i know.”

“you made me feel like i was nothing to you,” you continue, voice unsteady. “like i was just a backup plan.”

his hands clench at his sides, his eyes glassy, “you were never a backup plan. you were always my first choice. i was just too stupid to realize it.”

you want to be angry. you want to push him away, to tell him that he’s too late.

but when you look at him—when you see the desperation in his eyes, the way his breath trembles in the cold air—you realize something.

you still love him. you always have.

your fingers twitch at your sides before you reach for his hand. his breath catches when you intertwine your fingers with his, like he wasn’t expecting you to touch him at all. his grip tightens instantly, holding onto you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“i hate you for making me wait,” you murmur. “i hate myself for making you wait,” he whispers back.

you stare at each other for a long moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. and suddenly, all the pain, all the waiting, all the heartbreak—it all feels worth it.

so, this time, you do what you should’ve done all those years ago…you take his hand.

riki inhales sharply, like he can’t believe it, his grip tightening around yours. his eyes search yours, hesitation flickering across his face. “can i—”

you don’t let him finish. instead, you tilt your head up, closing the distance between you.

the moment your lips touch, everything else fades.

his lips are soft, hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, he deepens the kiss, pouring every unsaid word, every regret, every lingering feeling into it.

his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let go…and maybe he is.

when you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. his forehead rests against yours, his hands still gripping your waist like you might disappear if he lets go.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice shaking. “i should’ve said it sooner.”

you let out a shaky laugh. “yeah, you should have.”

he smiles, just slightly, his fingers brushing against yours again. “let me make it up to you.”

you exhale, still feeling the ghost of his lips on yours. “you better.”

his grin widens, and for the first time in months, the ache in your chest disappears.

because this time, he isn’t letting you go.

⋆｡°✩ @cheruphic @liwinly @chrrific @hyukabean @ijustwannareadstuff20 @jellyluv4eva @aishigrey

[yvesssssssss]

Can you do HCs (bc I have a short attention span) of shin finding out his S/O is the younger sister of Nagumo :0 or anyone from the order or smth like that idk

Shin Finding Out His S/O Is Nagumo’s Younger Sibling

The Realization Hits Like a Truck

Shin’s just minding his business, enjoying life with his S/O, when one day, Nagumo casually strolls into the room and greets them like it’s nothing. Shin’s entire body tenses. His mind is screaming: Why is this man here?!

“Oh? You didn’t tell him yet?” Nagumo smirks, leaning on the doorframe.

“Tell me what?” Shin asks, dreading the answer.

“That I’m their older brother, duh.”

Denial Stage

Shin outright refuses to believe it at first. No way. No freaking way. His S/O is too normal, too kind, too not like Nagumo for them to be related.

He stares at them in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

Nagumuo grins. “Oh, they didn’t tell you? I changed their diapers.”

“DON’T SAY THAT IN FRONT OF ME!”

The Personality Comparison

Shin starts overanalyzing everything. Are they good at disguises? Do they have that same annoying smugness?

The moment he notices even one Nagumo-like trait (e.g., a similar teasing smile), he feels his soul leave his body.

If they don’t act like Nagumo at all, Shin’s even more confused. “How did you turn out so normal?!”

Nagumo’s Constant Torment

From that moment on, Nagumo becomes insufferable about it.

“Shin-kun, if you ever break their heart, just know—I know where you live.”

“You already knew where I live!”

“Exactly.”

Sends cryptic threats disguised as casual conversation, like, “I always wanted to see if Shin could survive being buried alive…”

Drops in randomly, ruffling their hair and treating them like a kid, just to embarrass them in front of Shin.

Shin Overthinking Everything

New intrusive thought unlocked: Is this some Order-level ploy to mess with me?

Second-guessing every interaction. When his S/O says “I love you,” Shin side-eyes them. “Did your brother put you up to this?”

Starts panicking when they get really good at poker or guessing what he’s thinking.

Nagumo Brings Out the Baby Photos

“Hey, Shin, wanna see them covered in spaghetti at age three?”

Shin does not want to see it. But now he’s seen it. He can never unsee it.

Nagumo also shows the most embarrassing ones to the rest of the Order. Shishiba laughs. Osaragi asks for copies.

Shin’s Ultimate Conclusion

It takes him a while, but eventually, Shin realizes his S/O is their own person, not just “Nagumo’s sibling.”

He still dreads family gatherings.

But he loves them enough to endure Nagumo’s endless teasing.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone related to him…”

S/O kisses him on the cheek.

“...Okay, maybe it’s worth it.”

[acquelus-ussy]

Im thinking of...

Yandere!jock x wallflower!reader

Yandere!Jock is a fucking playboy, but you chose to ignore that. You've seen him do good things when his friends aren't around.

That's why you had a crush on him...

For a jock, he's pretty smart. He's a frat leader, a social butterfly, and would probably graduate with Latin honors. However, the only downside to him is that he can be a bully.

So, during the time you had a crush on him, he was the first to interact with you. But he wasn’t flirting or anything he was just asking if you were done with something.

And you being the wallflower that you are you blush you think to yourself

"is he really talking to me?"

And him, being the playboy jock, noticed the hue in your cheeks and decided to "play" with you.

"i can't believe you're blushing just because i talked to you wallflower haha cute"

It was a long time of banter between the two of you, and you thought there was something. But of course, reality strikes when a close friend of yours tells you his true intentions.

But...

Ever since you ignored our handsome jock over here He cant seem to get a hold of himself

He goes to nightclubs almost every night, trying to find a girl who looks like you, smells like you, and talks like you. But no matter how hard he tries, he knows he needs you.

The next day at school, you were in the library with a classmate, working on a school project, when he barged in. Oh yeah, he had been asking around if anyone had seen you it's not like he's in love or anything.

He pushes your classmate out of their chair and tells them to get lost. Then, grasping your arms, he looks at you and asks,

"Where the fuck have you been? We need to talk. I'm the most wanted man on campus, and you just ignore me like that? Doing that won’t make me give you more attention, you know."

"so what i don't fucking care i don't like you anymore"

Pang

What you said hurt him, but then again, why is he acting like this? A lot of girls love him and want to be with him, so what’s up with you? He knew you liked him but what the fuck happened?

Later that night... You wake up to glass shattering

Intruder?

A hand suddenly cups your mouth and you feel something hard on your back then you hear

"shh baby you got me all bricked~ up there's no use in fighting me i know how much of a fucking slut you are~"

The last thing you remember was passing out

You wake up to a soft, comfy bed but hold on… Why is there something heavy stopping you from moving? You turn your head and see him.

"You know, my love, a lot of girls dream about this… but you're the only one I want. I'm done being a player." He kisses you on the forehead.

"And also, don’t worry about school and your parents I called up some old buddies," he says, continuing to hug you like there's no tomorrow.

It sucks being a wallflower no one would look for you but don’t worry because he will~

---

This is probably the most longest fucking thing i wrote

[batboysanonymous]

You Should Know

Azriel x Reader

Summary: She never asked him to read her mind, only to see her when she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Based on the song: Signs by Tate McRae

"Okay, boy, that's some kinda crazy Thinkin' we're all good It's the opposite lately I know you're intelligent Just no rocket scientist So take all my silences And do your damn best to figure it out…”

She hadn’t meant to push him away.

But every silence became a wall, and every moment he didn’t push through it built another brick.

Y/n sat on the edge of the balcony, knees drawn up to her chest, the chill night air biting her skin, and stil, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the silence between them.

He was inside. She could feel him there.

His shadows brushed at her consciousness, gentle, questioning.

She ignored them.

Not because she wanted to. But because it felt easier than trying to explain the weight pressing down on her ribs, on her throat, on everything.

Why couldn’t he just see her?

Azriel had always known when an enemy lied, when a mission was off by the flicker of an eye or the breath between words.

So why, why couldn’t he read her the same way?

Why couldn’t he tell that “I’m fine” meant “I’m crumbling and begging for you to hold me together.”

That “Go have fun, babe” meant “Please don’t leave me alone with my mind.”

That silence didn’t mean peace.

It meant drowning.

"Say I need space, don't look at the door I hate you means I need you more If I say, 'Go have fun, babe,' that's just short for you should Know me better, see the signs Shouldn't have to tell you or whatever, read my mind…”

He found her there, hours later, when the wind had turned sharp and cruel, and she still hadn’t moved.

“Y/n.”

His voice was soft, hesitant.

She didn’t turn.

Azriel exhaled behind her, the rustle of his wings a familiar whisper.

“I’ve been trying to give you space.”

A humorless laugh scraped from her throat.

Space.

Space was suffocating.

“You told me you needed it,” he went on, uncertain now. “After training. After Solstice. After…” He faltered.

She squeezed her eyes shut. He had been listening. Just to the wrong words.

“I meant the opposite,” she whispered.

He stilled.

“I meant,” she choked, “don’t leave me.”

"For god's sake, don't believe a word that I say I wanna touch on you all day Instead I'm pushin' you away So classic, assumin' you're telepathic…”

Azriel sat beside her. Not touching. Close enough that his shadows curled protectively around her ankles, her wrists, like they understood even if he didn’t.

“I don’t know how,” he admitted.

She bit her lip so hard it hurt. “I shouldn’t have to teach you.”

He flinched.

And Cauldron, she hated that she’d hurt him. But she couldn’t help it. The ache inside her was so loud it drowned out everything else.

“I thought…” His voice was hoarse. “I thought I was giving you what you asked for.”

“You were giving me the words,” she whispered. “Not the truth.”

She dragged her knees tighter to her chest, trying to hold herself together.

“I don’t need space, Azriel.” Her voice cracked. “I need you.”

"If I need your sex like quick Said somethin' and now I'm pissed It's like that or it's like this You should know, you should know…”

His hand hovered over hers.

“I thought you wanted to be alone.”

She shook her head violently. “I wanted you to fight me on it. I wanted you to stay.”

Her voice broke open then.

“I wanted you to look at me and know that every time I push you away, I’m begging you to pull me closer.”

Azriel’s breath shuddered out of him.

“I didn’t see it,” he rasped.

She laughed bitterly. “You see everything but me.”

Her heart splintered, the words too sharp, too ugly.

But they were true.

She had spent months, years, maybe—telling him with her silences, with her glances, with the trembling weight she couldn’t carry alone. And every time, he’d taken it at face value.

She didn’t want to spell it out for him.

She wanted him to love her enough to know.

"Know me better, see the signs Shouldn't have to tell you or whatever, read my mind…”

Azriel’s hand finally settled on hers.

“Y/n.” His voice was broken glass. “I don’t know how to love someone like that.”

She froze.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. “But all I know is reading enemies. Listening to lies. Looking for deception. I… I never learned how to see the truth in someone who won’t say it.”

She turned to him then, finally meeting his eyes.

“I don’t say it because I don’t think I deserve it.”

He went still.

And the dam broke.

“I don’t say it because I hate how needy I feel. I hate that I want you to fight for me when I can’t even fight for myself.” Her voice cracked apart. “I hate that I make everything difficult, and I know I do, and I know you deserve better than someone who makes you guess all the time.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“But I can’t ask for it out loud,” she whispered. “Because if I do, it feels like weakness. Like I’m just… too much. And I keep waiting for you to get tired of guessing and stop trying.”

Azriel’s shadows wrapped around her then, cradling her. His hands cupped her face with a tenderness that undid her completely.

“Never,” he breathed.

She sobbed. “You say that now.”

“I say that forever.”

His lips pressed to her forehead, lingering there like a promise.

“I will learn,” he whispered. “I will learn your silences, Y/n. I will learn every look, every breath, every word you don’t say. I will make it second nature. I will read you the way I read the wind before a storm.”

Her breath shook.

“I just need you to stay long enough to let me figure it out,” he murmured.

Her heart cracked wide open.

“I want to.” Her voice was raw. “I just—I’m so tired of begging.”

“You don’t have to beg.”

He kissed her cheek, her temple, each touch reverent.

“I will see you. Even when you can’t see yourself.”

"Know me better See the signs If you love me, you should know me better…”

She let out a broken sound.

“I don’t want to be hard to love.”

“You’re not.”

She shook her head.

“You’re not,” he repeated fiercely. “You are complicated. And difficult. And stubborn. And so am I.”

He pulled back enough to meet her eyes.

“And I don’t want easy.”

Her breath caught.

“I want you.”

His forehead pressed to hers.

“All of you,” he whispered. “Even the parts that make me guess.”

She swallowed hard, tears slipping down her face.

“I hate that you didn’t know,” she whispered.

“I hate that I didn’t either.”

They sat there in silence, the night wrapping around them.

And then, softly:

“You can push me away all you want,” he murmured. “I will still reach for you.”

She let out a breathless laugh.

“I might bite.”

He smiled against her temple. “I’ll take the scars.”

"See the signs Read my mind Now I'm pissed…”

Later, much later, when they lay tangled in each other’s limbs, her cheek pressed to his bare chest, she whispered the words that had haunted her for so long.

“I’m scared I’ll always be too much.”

Azriel’s hand skimmed down her back.

“You’re just enough,” he said quietly.

“And when I say I hate you?” she murmured.

His chest rumbled with a soft chuckle. “I know you mean you need me more.”

She smiled into his skin.

“And when I tell you to leave me alone?”

“I’ll wrap you in my shadows instead.”

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze.

“And when I say I need space?”

He brushed his lips over hers.

“I won’t look at the door.”

"Know me better Know me better (see the signs) Know me better If you love me, you should know me better…”

She exhaled a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled softly.

“For what?”

“For seeing me.”

His eyes darkened with emotion.

“I’ll never stop.”

She let herself believe it.

And for the first time in a long time, the silence between them felt soft.

Not heavy.

Not drowning.

Just quiet.

And safe.

The kind of silence you could live inside.

The kind of silence where love didn’t have to be spoken to be known.

Taglist: @willowpains, @masbt1218, @antonia002, @bookishcait, @fuckingsimp4azriel, @fanficscuziranout, @buttermilktea11, @lilah-asteria, @lreadsstuff,  @flintthegoodboyo, @saltedcoffeescotch,  @okaytrashpanda, @mariaxliliana, @kksbookstuff, @marina468

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[sturnsblogs]

ILL PRETEND

—

“I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

You tell yourself that every day. Every time he touches you, every time he kisses you, every time he tells you I love you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You used to feel it too. You used to say it back without hesitation, with warmth, with certainty. But now?

Now, it feels like a lie.

And you don’t know why.

You wish you could pinpoint the moment everything changed—the moment his laugh stopped making your chest warm, the moment his arms around you felt more like a cage than a comfort. But you can’t. All you know is that it’s gone. The love, the spark, the desire to stay—it’s just… gone.

And you don’t know how to leave.

You don’t want to be the one to break his heart. You keep hoping—praying—that maybe he’ll notice. That maybe he’ll feel the distance between you and be the one to let go first. That way, you won’t have to be the one to shatter him.

But Chris is so in love with you. Too blind to see that you’re slipping away.

He still looks at you like you’re his entire world. And that’s what makes this so much worse.

—

Chris holds you close, pulling you into his warmth, his fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns against your skin. You used to love this—the way he couldn’t be near you without touching you, the way he made you feel safe, like you belonged to him.

Now, it makes your throat tighten.

He exhales, pressing a slow kiss against your shoulder. “You know I love you, right?” he murmurs, voice heavy with affection.

Your stomach twists. You force yourself to nod. “Yeah.”

Chris hums, pressing another kiss to your temple, his grip around you tightening. “I don’t think you get it, baby,” he says, his voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent. “I think about you all the time. Even when I’m out, I just wanna be home with you. Just wanna hear your voice, feel you next to me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to feel something.

“You’re everything to me,” he breathes, his lips brushing against your jaw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that’s when you break.

Your breath shudders, your hands curling into fists against his chest. You can’t do this anymore.

You can’t keep lying to him.

“Chris…” Your voice is barely there.

He pauses, sensing the shift in your tone. “Yeah, baby?”

You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself, but the words push their way out before you can stop them.

“I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

The room goes silent.

Chris stiffens behind you, his breath catching in his throat. For a second, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything.

Then, slowly, he pulls back, just enough to see your face. “What?” His voice is quiet, uncertain.

You can’t look at him.

Chris shifts, sitting up now, his brows furrowing as he tries to process what you just said. “What do you mean?” There’s a flicker of panic in his voice now. “Why would you say that?”

Your chest feels like it’s caving in. You force yourself to meet his eyes, and the second you do, you regret it.

He looks wrecked.

“We can’t do this anymore, Chris,” you whisper.

His entire body locks up.

“No.” He shakes his head, scrambling to sit up, to get closer to you. “No, you don’t mean that.” His breathing is uneven now, his hands reaching for you like he can somehow fix this. “You’re just tired, baby. You’re stressed or—”

“I’m not.” The words come out strangled. “Chris, I don’t—” Your voice breaks. “I don’t love you anymore.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Chris blinks, his entire expression shattering.

His hands drop from your skin like you just burned him. His jaw tenses, his eyes glassy as he shakes his head again, slower this time.

“No,” he whispers, like he’s trying to convince himself. “That’s not how this works. You don’t just stop loving someone.”

You inhale sharply, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

And then you say the cruelest thing you’ve ever said.

“Then maybe it was never love at all.”

Chris flinches like you just hit him.

For a long moment, he just stares at you, his chest rising and falling unevenly, his whole body trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Then, he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a quiet, bitter laugh. But there’s no amusement in it. Just pain.

“You should’ve told me,” he mutters, voice raw. “You should’ve fucking told me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you choke out.

Chris scoffs. “Didn’t want to hurt me?” He finally looks at you again, and the way he’s looking at you—like he doesn’t even recognize you anymore—makes you feel like the worst person alive. “You’ve been sitting here, pretending to love me, waiting for me to figure it out? Just letting me make a fool of myself?”

Tears slip down your cheeks. “Chris, I—”

He stands up abruptly, running both hands through his hair, pacing the room like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like if he stands still for too long, this will all become too real.

Finally, he stops. His breathing is shaky, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He stares at the floor for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

And that’s when you really break.

Because fuck, you don’t know how to do this without him either. But you know you can’t stay. Not when every second feels heavier, not when every touch feels suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice barely there.

Chris exhales, his whole body stiffening like he’s bracing for impact.

Then, after what feels like forever, he nods. Slowly.

“Okay,” he murmurs. His voice is flat, hollow.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but no words come.

Chris swallows thickly, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw clenches. His eyes flicker toward the door.

And then—

For the first time since you met him, he walks away.

—

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @slvtme0utt @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill

[hyuckworld]

soobmint 2025 comeback soobmint 2025 comeback soobmint 2025 comeback soobmint 2025 comeback soobmint 2025 comeback

fic started so cute then .

You turn around. “Yeonjun.” The space behind you is empty.

HOW DARE UUU.... WHY WOULD YOU BAIT ME LIKE THIS </3 i was kinda expecting it because i knew this was gonna be pure angst (also the phoebe bridgers inspo so like.) BUT FROM THE VERY FIRST SCENE WTAFFFF

also omg yeonjun catching strays from his own bandmate im crying but wooyoung was really spilling….. mc perhaps you deserve Someone Better and that Someone is Closer Than You Think 😁

“I love him.” It’s all you can say, because in your world of drunken calls at midnight and the bitter scent of cherry soju, it’s all you know to be true.

NOOO I FEEL SO BAD FOR HER <///3 and beautiful line. wonderful execution. give it a nobel prize in literature. also i’m gonna get yeonjun’s ass 🔪

“your days may be hell, your nights may be lonely, moments may go by like whispers in the wind. but you love him” waow …… just take a hammer and smash my heart to pieces will u 😞

the almost smut made me nearly forget he was manipulating her GODDD yeonjun don’t be an asshole ur too sexy :/ but ermm let me get some more of that cherry soju 😂

god the glass shard injuring her 😞 THE SYMBOLISM…… GIRL LEAVE HIM……. he didn’t even stay awake for the forehead kiss i’m sick

iron man

EATING THE CAKE ALONE WHAT IF I JUST DIED WHAT IF I JUST FELL OVER AND DIED RN <//3 let me eat the cake with u mc 😢

omg he found the cake….. YEAHHH REGRET IT. FEEL BAD. LET THE GUILT CONSUME U. damn he’s treating her so bad that even he recognizes she deserves better 😭 MORE THAN SHE DOES NOOO

oh wonderful,,g,h.., more Fun Moments <3 wonderufl wonderful wonderful wonderful i think you should go for the Big One (FULL ON SMUT) next time 👍 okay but every time it happens i still feel so sad for them 😞

WTAF

HE LEFT HER

WITH A NOTE

IM GONNA DIE EEE 😞😞😞 WTFFFFFF 😭😭

He stops in front of you, nearly dropping the ice cream cone from his hand before he lets the bike fall to the ground. His own eyes are full of tears, but he too smiles, stars dancing in his eyes. He extends the ice cream cone to you, and you smile wider, fingers brushing against his as you grab hold of it. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

THE ENDING??? OH MY GOD

THIS WAS SO GOOD CHAR NOOOO the pov of yeonjun is so heavy cause you can tell he’s going through so much and clearly needs help but at the same time he wants to be a better boyfriend for mc 😞 but he can’t fall out of his bad habits GODDD i wanna die this is so angsty <//3 and then mc’s povs where she’s suppressing so much pain because of him sobsob but i’m so glad you finished this fic because it was such a delight to read can’t wait for more soobmint releases (2027?? 2029???)

moon song | choi yeonjun [a] ; [s] (14.8k words)

“so i will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.” moon song, phoebe bridgers

first installment in the “punisher” collection. masterlist can be found here.

pairing; choi yeonjun x fem!reader

blurb; for better or worse, you have placed your heart in the hands of choi yeonjun, a struggling musician trying his best to be all you expect of him. but when you realize you’ve been losing more and more of yourself just to keep him near, you fear you may be too far gone to keep yourself from falling down with him.

genres; angst, established relationship

warnings; alcoholism, profanity, suggestive content, themes of mental illness & destructive thought spirals

playlist; find it here!! shoutout to @heetendo for helping me make this, she found half the songs for it <3

author’s note; hi all, welcome to the first piece in my punisher series! this is my first time putting out both a suggestive fic and a fic that’s 99% angst haha. it was really exciting to try out some new things, and it helped me get out of my writing slump for sure! do be sure to check out the warnings before reading, and i hope you enjoy moon song <3 (also, highly suggest giving the song a listen!! you can find it here.)

taglist; @hoonbear @hyuckworld @heetendo @yeonjuniper @soobin-chois @magicalstellar @maplecornia @baekberrie @boba-beom

[back to my masterlist]

WHEN THE MOON RISES, YOU FEEL AT PEACE.

Keep reading

[smallestapplin]

If Blades is the one to ask his s/o if they’d still love him if he was a worm…

How would Chase, Heatwave, and Boulder react to their s/o (human) asking the same question to them?

I love shit like this so much, I put my bussy into this

No warnings! Just fluff and sillies.

-

-

Chase

You know how your boyfriend is, you should’ve known a question like this would’ve caused some confusion but that was the point, you live for keeping this mech on his pedes. You’re sat so cute in his lap as he reads a manual, ensuring he knows how a new device the Burns got works. You can’t help but look up at him, loving how focused he looks.

Always so cute in your eyes.

“Hey, Chase, I have a question if you don’t mind me asking.”

You love how in an instant he places the book down on his knee to look at you, giving you his undivided attention.

“I do not mind, please, ask away. I am happy to be of service.”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You try not to laugh as he blinks rapidly as if trying to process what you just asked of him.

“Humans can turn into worms?” He asks in turn, bewildered at the concept or mere thought.

You snort at how shocked he sounds, “No, but if I did become one, would you still love me?”

“Do humans spontaneously get turned into worms, is this a realy threat to your kind that I was not aware of? Can worms even feel that level of emotions? I don’t recall worms having high intellegic to experience such complex emotions. Ah, hold on, dear.”

Chase picks you up and sets you down on the couch along with his manual, and walks over to the bookshelf as he begins to look for books about worms and animals in general.

“Chase, just a simple yes or no works.”

“But worms cannot feel what I feel for you, that and from this book my guess would be correct. In fact would you be able to feel as a worm, or would this be a worm with the brain module of you inside it? Or is it that when you turn into a worm, you fully become a worm and lose yourself in the process?”

Chase keeps rambling asking question after question that you can’t seem to keep up with as he thinks of every last possible scenario, and the different combination, and yet asking them so quickly you don’t even get a chance to ask them. You can only watch as he starts pacing the room as he talks unable to stay still for too long.

You smile, realizing this was your own doing, you set yourself up for this fate and now you must listen to him learn more about worms and ask questions about you being a worm in real time.

He’s so cute though.

You might(will) kiss him after he’s done rambling.

-

-

Boulder

Gardening with your big Cybertronian beloved on such a nice day was something you’d never grow tired of, you love telling him about the flowers or vegetables you’ve planted, love how gentle he is with them and helps you moving the bigger stuff. Boulder is a dream, especially as you two sit under a big tree, taking in the nice spring day.

You sit on top of his shoulder leaning against his helm as he enjoys the sight of butterflies and bees moving peacefully around your flowers, occasionally only being broken up but his chuckles as you place a kiss to his cheek. Boulder could get use to life being like this, calm and domestic with you, it makes him wonder if a human and cybertronian can spark bond, he wouldn’t mind this forever.

“Hey, Boulder?”

“Yes, my sweetpea?’

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

You lean away from hos helm to look at him, and to at least allow him to look at you too without disturbing you. Boulder’s optics widen a bit, a worm? Why would you ever be a worm? He’s never heard of humans turning into such a thing, and the idea of anything bad happening to you worries him to his core, but at the end of the day it would still be you, right?

Boulder smiles, carefully raising his servos to grab a hold of you and hold you up in front of him, his orange optics soften at the pure sight of you before he presses a kiss to your face, his engine rumbling softly as you start laughing at how much it tickles.

“I would find the best sized tank for you, get you the best soil I could find and fill it up with so many good and nutritious plants for you, find you little leaves and make your enclosure so pretty for you.” Boulder nuzzles his face against your stomach, smile stretching across his dermas.

“I’d make sure you soil is nice and clean every day, make sure you have plenty of water and natural sunlight when it gets too much. You’d be my little wormy.”

You can’t help but place your hands on his cheeks and lavish his face plate in all the kisses you could possibly give him, making the large mech giggle sweetly under all your affection. He holds you close, snuggly against his chassis. Boulder never wants anything to happen to you, he couldn’t live with himself if you were ever hurt.

But that wouldn’t stop him from doing everything in his power to make you comfortable, to tend to you, to love you even then, nothing could change how his spark felt for you.

Though don’t be surprised when his pet name for you goes from ‘sweetpea’ to ‘wormy’.

-

-

Heatwave

You think he’d ever let you away from him? Let you out sass him? Please, you don’t even know it yet but he will turn the conversation back around. Heatwave is stubborn and as quick with his intake as he is his pedes, his glossa can be vicious if you aren’t careful, yet he’s so adoring and attentive to you, surely this conversation would go well!

You are laying across his chassis in his habsuite, his optics are closed but you know he’s still awake. A servo on your legs and thumb rubbing slow lazy circles across your back, allowing you to full relax into him, enjoying the gentle touches and warmth of his much larger body.

“Wavey?” Your voice slightly muffled as your cheek is pressed against his chassis and youdon’t feel like moving too much.

“Hm?” He hums in return, acknowledging you but also not wanting to move much, as he’s enjoying having some peaceful downs time with you.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

All his movements stop in an instant and he doesn’t make a sound for a solid minute before sighing heavily, cracking his optics open just to look down at you with a playful glare.

“Why would you want to a be worm, huh? Just to get away from me?”

“W-what? No!” You lift up on your forearms to look at him better, but he’s not having it.

“Oh so just being in the dirt is more fun than being with me? I see, I see how it is, you hate me and want me dead.”

“Noooo!” You whine pitifully, flopping back down before crawling up higher to meet his face.

Your give him a playful glare, angry pout on your lips while he has a shit eating grin across his face, knowing damn well what he’s doing and what you are asking.

“I just wanted to ask if you’d still love me if I was uselsss-“

“You think you could be useless to me? You really think that lowly of me?”

“Heatwave no, please, you know I love you!”

“And I love you too, so what’s the problem?”

Your head clunks as you drop it back against his chassis, sighing heavily as your stubborn mech of a boyfriend will not back down on this, this is a hill he will not only die on but drag you down with him, you just know it.

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm is the problem.” You pout, looking up at him with am exaggerated pleading expression.

Heatwave just stares at you almost wondering how he made it this far with you, until he remembers how dull his world would be without you. He rolls his optics with a huff, as if he’s doing you such a huge favor, though you know it’s mostly played up for the bit.

“You know good and well I’d let this slagging rock burn if anything happened to you, how dare you doubt me.”

“I’m not doubting you.”

“Then hush and try to recharge.”

he leans his helm back and closes his optics again, trying to at least get some shut eye before the morning comes, and with that would be new emergencies. You sudden in getting comfy once more, with him about to put his servo back on you, until you spoke again.

“Heatwave?”

“Now what?”

“Can I get a kiss before bed?”

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” He groans, but that soft smile is back on his face as he sits up a little, moving you to keep you safe and to bring you higher, pressing his dermas to your soft lips, before laying back down again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetspark.”

He’s so dramatic but you love him for it.

[solivan-brugmansia]

I'm the anon who sent the request for comfort of a lonely reader and idk if this is allowed and and you're probably tired of fluff but what about a Shadow Milk x Y/N who is suffering from gender dysphoria?

I really loved how you wrote my other request, and since you requested an emoji, can I pls be ���🐱 anon? Thank you so much for writing my asks!! You're very skilled and nice :D

OMG!!!!!! HI 🐰🐱 ANON, I MISS YOU MY CHILD!!! okay guys all of my anons are children now. I do kinda want some angst but I also love fluff so dw about it!!! Since you didn’t put in your ask about what y/n is transitioning too, I’m going to write that reader is afab (a female at birth) and is currently non-binary, if you want me to switch this up please let me know 🙏🙏

Warning:fluff, a bit of angst??, FUCKING OUT OF CHARACTER. “Shadow Milk Cookie isn’t nice” WOMP WOMP

“YOU MAY NOT SEE IT, BUT I DO.”

You are non-binary! And honestly, it’s one of the best things you have figured out in your life. The world just seems clearly to finally just accept who you are as a person. Everyone in Crispea is probably supportive of you too, even if they don’t know you. Well, a lot of people do.

You are ALSO Shadow Milk Cookies partner. How couldn’t you be so known after dating the BEAST OF DECEIT? Trust me, as soon as you guys started dating, he made it KNOWN. Like, C-MAILS (Cookie form of Gmail I made up) going to the commonest of cookies. Plays upon plays have been written for you, and you got to see them all.

When you transitioned and told him about it, well, he was the definition of supportive. He immediately understood the change and made a PROMISE that he would only call you by what you would prefer to be called. And if he ever broke this promise, you could break every single one of his fingers.

“I pinky promise.” He said, a silly but truthful look on his face. “And how do I know you’re not lying, hm?” You spat back, playing along like you knew he wanted you too. “I’ll let you break all of my fingers.” As soon as he said that, your pinky finger swooped in to make contact with his, and your mouth gained a smile. “Deal.”

But even once you accepted your gender, you couldn’t just stop yourself from picking out the small little details that made you look more feminine. Your big breasts were still visible, and it didn’t matter how much binding tape and binders you put on them. You had big hips, no matter how baggy your pants were. Bigs lips, smaller chin, rounder eyes, everything was a mistake. You couldn’t stand to stare at all of the mirrors in Shadow Milks palace, and there were a bunch. It felt like everywhere you looked, all you could see was a stranger, someone so distant yet so familiar.

One day, while changing into some clothing, you couldn’t help but too stare into your only mirror in your room. It was small one, but big enough so you could see your upper half. You looked over all of your features, from your face to your chest, and you could feel your cheeks heat up. Not from only being in a binder and some boxers, but from angry. You couldn’t FATHOM why the witches made you look like this.

As the feeling of rage consumed your mind, you suddenly PUNCHED your mirror, “SHIT!” You screamed. Glass shards went everywhere, into the floor, and some cut open your skin. You yelped in pain, and clutched your fist. You know you had some bandages in your room, but as you were scanning around, a blue jester cookie rolled in loudly.

You assumed that he already knowing what happened to your fist, since your scream was pretty loud.He flew over, and held your bleeding hand in his. “Aw.. my poor doll. Let’s go get your hand wrapped up..!” He mumbled, trying to still act silly, possibly to cheer you up.

He gently swinging you around and started dragging you by your wrist, trying to not to hurt you more then you are. Once at the palaces medical center, (trust me, you were shocked once you told out he had one) he basically shoved you into a blue chair. It was similar to ones in nurses offices, but this one was softer.

Shadow Milk grabbed some of those bandages wraps, and starting to put some over your now starting to bruise knuckles. You could feel his eyes on you, like he was trying to read through you, and why would do such a thing.

“Sorry for uhm..” You stop, trying to decide if you should apologize, “breaking your mirror..?” You whispered, it sounding more like a question than an apology. It was true that it was his mirror that he gifted you, but you also knew it was true that he said he could remove it if you wanted him too..

“Nonsense. I really don’t care, actually!~” He said, but then continued. “Well- about the mirror, I do care about you still.” You knew he still cared about you, but you found it funny that he still had to make it clear.

“But.. why DID you punch it?” He questioned. You knew he would see straight through his lies, so you were just gonna come clean about the truth. You just hated that you had to.. talk about all of this.

“Uhm.. Gender Dysphoria..?” You answered, with a slight giggle to your voice. You then continued after, thinking you should explain yourself a bit more. “I just HATE how my body looks so..feminine? I just feel like I’m not a real enby..”

Shadow Milk Cookie, shoved his silly attitude OUT the window. He himself could relate to all of this. With all of his shape shifting, it is just hard to pick a gender. (Shadow Milk is genderfluid canon)

He sighed, and finished wrapping up your knuckles so he could cup your cheeks like you were a little baby. Then, he spoke, “My little star. You need to realize that your appearance doesn’t change your gender, and it never will.” Before you could respond though, he ‘magical’ shape-shifted into a girl. He had a long silky dress, and his hair was all long and dressed up. “See?” He stated, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little bit.

“Can you stay like that?” You asked, and he nodded his head. “For as long as you want.” He added on. Your mouth earned a smile as you stood up from the chair and clinged your arms around his torso, trying to pull him in for a hug. He didn’t deny the embrace, but he actually pulled you closer. “Thank you..” you whispered, as you closed your eyes in his arms.

A/N: GOD, this took long. Still healing from my surgery but atleast my writers block is gone, hope you guys like this one!

P.S; I don’t experience gender dysphonia often, even as a trans person. I’m sorry if I wrote it wrong!

[moonlight-joy]

A Writer’s Muse

MASTERLIST

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary:  At a masquerade ball, you share a kiss with a stranger. The next day, Benedict won’t stop teasing you about your secret rendezvous, unaware that it was actually him.

Pairing: Reader/Benedict Bridgerton

You had always known that Benedict Bridgerton was an artist.

You had seen him sketch at balls, in the gardens, during long afternoons in the Bridgerton drawing room. His fingers, always smudged with charcoal, moved effortlessly across the page, capturing the world with an ease that left you breathless.

But never—not once—had you realized you were his favorite subject.

And you would never have known… had you not found his sketchbook.

It had been left on a table in the Bridgerton library, tucked between the pages of an open book. You hadn’t meant to pry. Truly, you hadn’t.

But when you saw your face staring back at you from the pages, drawn with such detail, such tenderness—

Your breath caught.

There were dozens of sketches.

Some were simple—a quick charcoal outline of your profile, the curve of your lips when you smiled. Others were far more detailed—the way your hands rested in your lap, the way your eyes softened when you looked at something you loved.

And then—there were the ones that made your heart ache.

A drawing of you sitting beneath the large oak tree in the Bridgerton gardens, your dress flowing around you like water, your expression serene.

Another of you reading by candlelight, your face bathed in a soft glow, lips parted ever so slightly in thought.

One of you sleeping.

Your chest tightened.

This was not the work of a man who had simply sketched a friend.

This was the work of someone who had memorized every piece of you.

Someone who had studied the curve of your cheek, the shape of your hands, the way your mouth quirked when you were lost in thought.

Someone who—

"You weren’t supposed to see that."

You gasped, snapping the sketchbook shut as Benedict’s voice filled the room.

He stood in the doorway, his expression frozen between panic and something else—something vulnerable.

Your heart stammered in your chest.

“I—” You swallowed hard, holding up the book. “I didn’t mean to—”

Benedict strode forward, reaching for it. But you stepped back, clutching it tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered.

His jaw clenched. “Because I knew this would happen.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Benedict exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark curls. “I knew you’d look at me differently.”

Your fingers curled around the book. “Benedict…”

“Please,” he murmured, voice raw, “just forget you saw it.”

Forget?

How could he ask that?

How could he expect you to unsee the way he had drawn you—not as just anyone, but as someone who mattered?

You lifted the book, flipping to a sketch—a particularly detailed one of you laughing, your head thrown back, joy captured perfectly in every line.

“This is not something I can forget,” you said softly.

Benedict swallowed. “Then what do you want me to say?”

You met his gaze, searching. “The truth.”

Silence.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his body taut with tension.

And then—

“The truth?” he repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded.

He took a slow, measured breath.

“The truth is,” he murmured, stepping closer, “I have been drawing you for years.”

Your heart pounded.

“The truth is,” he continued, his voice rough with emotion, “I never meant for you to see them because—because if you did, you’d know.”

“Know what?” you whispered.

Benedict exhaled, his gaze dark and unreadable.

“That I love you.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Your lips parted, but no sound came.

Benedict ran a frustrated hand through his hair, laughing bitterly. “You see? This is why I never said anything. Because now, you’re looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.”

You shook your head. “No.”

His brow furrowed. “No?”

You stepped forward, closing the space between you. “I’m looking at you like—like I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

Benedict stilled.

“I’m looking at you like I can’t believe it took me this long to realize,” you whispered. “That I love you too.”

His breath caught.

Then—before you could second-guess yourself—

You kissed him.

The moment your lips met, it was as if the world had been waiting for this exact moment.

Benedict inhaled sharply, his hands finding your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you back with a desperation that stole your breath.

It wasn’t hurried.

It wasn’t frantic.

It was slow, reverent—like he was memorizing every second, every feeling.

When you finally pulled away, Benedict pressed his forehead against yours, his breath uneven.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

You smiled, brushing your fingers against his cheek.

“I love you.”

His eyes fluttered shut, his expression one of pure relief.

And then, with a soft chuckle, he murmured—

“Well, I suppose I shall have to sketch this moment next.”

You laughed, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Only if you let me keep the sketchbook.”

Benedict smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

But then, before you could reply, he took the book from your hands, flipping to an empty page.

And right there, in that very moment, he sketched something new—

Not a portrait of longing.

Not an image of unspoken love.

But the two of you together, hands intertwined, a love no longer hidden between the pages of a book.

And as he looked at you, his muse, his heart—

He knew he would never stop drawing you.

Because you were his greatest masterpiece.

Please support my work with like and comment

[wannabanauthor]

Don’t think about how Tommy thought that getting back together with Buck was a sure thing.

He bought champagne.

He was confident that they could try again and make things work.

And Buck fumbled it so badly after fucking him all night.

Tommy really thought that Buck wanted more after their night together. He was hopeful, and even subverted the trope of lying to pretend he wasn’t interested in getting back together (Lucy Chen and Tim Bradford, I’m look at y’all).

And then Buck broke his heart.

They’re in love with each other but keep fucking things up. I’m hoping all this drama leads to a confession of love.

Tommy is very much in love with Buck, and Buck feels the same way. If only they would be courageous and tell each other this, but nope, we gotta drag the drama around for a while.

But I’m still wondering what exactly they got up to that night because they were both glowing and happy. And Tommy let Buck sleep in too and even asked him about it. He cares so much 😭 Buck why did you fumble him?

You think he can’t find another muscle bound twink that fucks like an Olympian? Have you met Tommy?! He gives off butch lesbian energy. He has way more experience with men, so he can absolutely fall in love with someone else who isn’t scared to tell him how they feel.

I know I want them back together ASAP, but I also love for angst. You know how many times I watched their kitchen fight when Tommy shut down and left? At least 10 times. Feed me the angst, but also get them back together.

I even have an idea: Tommy goes out on a date, and Buck happens to come across them and is super awkward about it. Maybe Tommy doesn’t even notice he’s there.

But I can see Buck staring at them from a distance and sad that Tommy moved on. He wallows in pain and misery until someone tells Buck to talk to Tommy about his feelings and work things out.

Because Buck is incapable of realizing that Tommy has his own emotional needs that Buck doesn’t acknowledge.

Buck needs to suffer a little bit to understand just how thoroughly he fucked things up with Tommy.

After Buck implied that he had feelings for Eddie and not Tommy and that it was just sex with Tommy, Tommy has no reason to reach out to Buck ever again. He was told he wasn’t wanted, and he responded appropriately by leaving.

Buck really needs to put in the work to fix things.

And I’d love to see him spiral a bit, including watching Tommy being happy with another guy.

Imagine the epic fight if Buck ever confronted him about it.

“So you’re just moving on without even trying to work things out?” Buck could accuse Tommy of this.

And Tommy could say “You told me you have feelings for your best friend and that what we had was just great sex. Why wouldn’t I move on? What else could you possibly want from me? Why would I continue to try to fix things between us when you don’t even have feelings for me?”

“But I do have feelings for you!”

“And how would I know that? Hell, I don’t even believe that you do. I know I fucked things up when I broke up with you, but you, you were just so cruel that morning after we hooked up. Why would I want to fight for us when you won’t?” Tommy asks.

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Yeah, classic Buck not communicating.

“And instead of telling me that, you did nothing. You watched me leave then never contacted me again. Evan, I’m trying to get over you and move on with my life. You think you want me, but you don’t. Your silence these past few weeks told me everything I needed to know. There’s no fixing us anymore. It’s over,” Tommy says.

Buck starts tearing up, and Tommy with his own puffy red eyes walks away.

Months go by, and Buck works on himself. Goes to therapy and all that. Tommy is still on his mind after all this. Maybe one day he decides to browse Tommy’s social media to see what he’s up to but finds out he’s been blocked by Tommy on every app.

And this leads to more spiraling.

But the next time he runs into Tommy, he doesn’t hold his feelings back anymore. He tells Tommy that he’s wanted him since the first day they met. That his life felt complete and whole when they became official. Like Tommy was the person he had been looking for all his life. He’s so in love with him that it terrifies him because he’s never felt this way before with past partners.

And Tommy surprises him by saying he’s still in love with Buck/Evan, but he doesn’t want to get hurt again.

They’re not sure how to go about this anymore with so much past hurt between them, so they seek out couple’s counseling to see if they can work through it. And they do.

[noreasontobebland]

Rafayel x Black Reader

CW/// Raf has a slight mommy kink(sorry but he so gives the vibe), Eating Pussy, Raf has a dirty mouth, Fingering, Tounge fucking, messy pussy eating

I’m a Firm Believer All LADS Men Don’t Mind If You Didn’t Shave/Wax Yet, But Rafayel Actually Prefers If You Don’t

“Why do you get so sensitive over something so pointless? You humans are so vain.”

It came to you as a shock to see Rafayel doesn’t seem to mind when you forgot to go to your waxing appointment. Not that he’s ever shown you he cared too much about your looks. He always made you feel like the only woman in the world that matters which would be true.

He loves you at your lowest when you feel like you look terrible for those days your body is aching and your hair ain’t done, and when you pretty yourself up.

However Rafayel was always the pretty boy, even when he was dramatically ill on those nights he was at his weakest he looked so …majestic, he didn’t have any body hair either, he doesn’t grow much so you often caught yourself comparing how smoother his skin was to yours.

Silly, but true.

“I’m going tomorrow for my appointment. When I come back I’m all yours.”

“So you hate me.”

“What?”

He smacks his teeth, arms crossed. He really did not understand the big deal of your pubic hair and why you tend to remove it. Though he’d never judge you about it or question you, because he supports you regardless he will give you an earful on why he loves it.

“It shouldn’t matter if there is hair down there.” Rafayel’s voice drops down as he crawls between your legs, placing your hand to cup his cheek, a habit he has grown to do when he seeks the warmth and comfort of your hands. You seem to melt everytime with this tactic.

Oh if your little fishy only knew how cat-like he really acts.

“Please ….mommy…?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, he immediately went for a low blow that you should have seen coming, but it’s pretty rare he calls you that nickname. You huff at him, trying to keep your gaze at the beautiful dark blue sky reflecting off the water that evening, but Rafayel doesn’t stop, he turns your face back to him.

One hand on his cheek, and the other being guided down his neck, bare chest, down under the band of his bottoms to let your feel his dick practically grow in the center of your palm. You sink further into his cushy couch, his breath fanning over your lips.

“Please, I know I can make you feel good….i always do…”

“Raf…I’m…”

“Last time I made you cum twice. ….Then your body was practically crying out for more…you had some hair then and I loved how you felt grinding your pussy against my mouth I—-Besides I was more focus on that cute little clit of yours…She tasted so good—-“

“Rafie!” You moaned out his name to stop his talking, thinking about his own sweet noises he make when he eats you out, his indescribable soft lips against yours, and the way he makes out with your lower body sends a chill down your spine.

Lost in thought was officially broken when you felt your shorts being tugged on. The cool sea breeze hitting your clothed cunt you had squeezed your thighs but your boyfriend was stronger than you in every way prying them open to lay comfortably on his stomach between your legs.

You grimace a little seeing that some of your pubic hair was sticking out of your panties, and Rafayel didn’t seem to care his cheek laid on your warm inner thigh, tracing mindless shapes on your pussy and making small circles when he reaches you clit, “I’ll be quick? You don’t even have to look at me this time.”

“Yes you do.”

“Okay I do, but only if you don’t wanna look.”

He managed to crack a smile out of you, quite literally laughing you out of your panties seeing that your panties were now in his back pocket.

“You—-“

“Just say the word and I’ll stop….”

You really DIDN’T want him to stop…you’ve felt just as needy as him, but the hair you have now is almost turning into a bush, but the insecurity began melting away when Rafayel looked at you, then your pussy, licked his lips then looked back at you.

“I promise it’ll feel so good…plus I can smell you, you’re wet as hell—-“

“ALRIGHT—-AAH~”

Your horny fishie wasted no time pushing back the hood of your cli to suckle on, he began swiveling his head back and fourth, moaning and humming with satisfaction of eating you out.

….it was kind of hot, but also bizarre how much he didn’t care about your hair.

It didn’t take long for him to really prove it when he pushed your legs back against your chest and dived back in, his thumbs opening up your labia wider to tongue fuck you.

“This—-“ your words are broken in whimpers, “is so…embarrassing—-Raf!”

“Maybe for you…” He gave a harsh pop to your clit to punctuate his sentence, “But your pussy feels so good against my mouth, and you taste really good too…see look…your clenching.”

“STOP!”

“Uh uh…” Rafayel pouted and shook his head no in between your lower lips, as if what he wasn’t doing wasn’t lewd enough he brought two fingers to circle your clit while he plunges his tongue back in your weeping hole.

“Mmmmmmnghhh! Rafayel please…please don’t….dont stop!” Throwing your head back with little room you try reaching out for something and he immediately knew what you wanted so he went back to sucking on your clit to free his hand to interlock with yours as you came in his tongue.

His mouth followed the rhythm of your hips as you rode off your high, singing his name out loud and praising him, the hair began to rub against his mouth and it felt so good to the Lumerian boy he almost began to overstimulate you on accident by letting go of your hand to hold up your ass and rub against you more.

“See. Told you I’d make you feel good….now stop feeling like you need to shave…it’s stupid.”